


Bite Your Enemies Harder

by mt_lyfe



Series: Would You Like A Bite? [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, BAMF Stiles, Blood Drinking, Bloodlust, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Kink Negotiation, Kinktober 2020, Light BDSM, M/M, Master/Pet, Power Play, Praise Kink, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Violence, Voyeurism, Werewolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_lyfe/pseuds/mt_lyfe
Summary: Derek ran a thumb over the luscious red lips surrounding the gag, “he’ll stay if he knows what’s good for him.” He slipped his thumb pass the gag and cut his thumb on a fang. The smell of blood instantly permeated the air, thick and heavy.Stiles whines, his tongue laps at the bleeding cut and chases it before Derek pulled out. “Get them to imprint on your blood and they’ll do anything for you to get their next fix.” Assuming the vampire didn’t outright drain and kill the wolf first, but the others didn’t know that.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Would You Like A Bite? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932937
Comments: 13
Kudos: 203





	Bite Your Enemies Harder

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of Bite Me Hard, Bite Me Slow. The BDSM undercover vampire AU I always wanted to write... if you squint and tilt your head thirty-three degrees to the right. 
> 
> Happy Kinktober 2020!

Werewolf politics meant the local packs get together every few years and pretend to play nice. It was also the opportunity for pissing contests and territory challenges by combat. The Hale Pack had garnered quite a bit of attention recently what with destroying the Alpha Pack, gaining a spark, and sealing off their territory from any trespassers.

It meant that Derek would have to show up to prove his worth in front of all the thirsty wolves that were still side-eyeing their territory and had been idly watching them struggle while swearing they were trying to stay neutral when they had been busy defending their land.

It pissed Stiles off.

But _no_ Stiles, you can’t just kill everybody there, you have to selectively intimidate through non-verbal but violent means, it’s a little-known skill called tact. You have to leave enough people alive to make a point so the remaining packs will respect you.

So he’s a little pissed that diplomacy is required but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to get his fun out of it. He has an idea. As soon as he sucks and fucks his mate stupid, he’ll introduce it.

Everyone else groaned that they had to witness even more kinky play. Though he and Erica have been exchanging tips lately. Boyd’s fine as long as they don’t do it on their shared furniture so what does he care.

* * *

No one wanted rival packs in their own territory, that’s just inviting trouble, so the meeting is always held in neutral territory. This year it was Las Vegas: The City of Sin. Hot smoky desert teeming with a diverse population of supernatural creatures that no one had ever managed to hold a proper claim on the land. The strip clubs housed incubus and succubus as they mingled with the audience feeding on the lust drenched air. Greed demons frequented the slot machines and poker tables. Vampire blood dens located at every block, indulging in blood. It was aptly named The City of Sin. Everyone had a truce with each other, make sure the humans stay unaware, don’t start fights and keep to your own food.

The alpha is only allowed to take two betas with them to the meeting. Any more would be a sign of aggression. Boyd chooses to stay behind to watch their territory. Stiles has a feeling that the pack house is going to look very different by the time they come back. Different meaning Boyd’s taking the chance in their absence to redecorate the house via burning more furniture. Not that he wouldn’t do it in their presence, something about the man says he likes to quietly watch things burn.

Erica also decides to stay behind with Boyd. Those two are probably going to defile the new furniture as revenge. Their pack has become very blasé about sex in front of others and in sharing about kinks.

Scott has to stay behind to watch their territory in case someone decides to attack in their absence. He took down a feral werewolf while he was out of town recently and came back as an alpha. Bringing two alphas to the meeting would incite a challenge so Scott is their other trump card. He’s okay with not being in charge because Scott’s the chill-est wolf to werewolf ever.

That leaves Isaac. He’s excited at the idea of heading to Vegas, he wants to pick up an incubus or two and get his soul sucked out through his dick for fun. Stiles isn’t going to judge on kinks, he frequently thinks about doing the exact same to Derek.

The meeting venue is held in a hotel ballroom at one of the largest casinos in the city. Of course they choose to make a grand entrance, meaning, they show up late.

* * *

Everyone’s eyes turn as the wide double doors burst open. The packs watch as Alpha Hale saunters in through the doors, a cloaked and hooded figure closely following him. They can see the figure is being led by a chain and the scent’s been masked. It’s definitely not a wolf; no wolf would tolerate being collared. His lone beta flanking them moves briskly forward purposefully walking toward the far wall to pull the heavy curtains over the high windows tapering off the sunlight streaming into the ballroom. The interior lighting automatically brightens.

The Hale Alpha then pulls the heavy cloak off his companion, the scent that’s been masked hits their nostrils and their eyes take in the pale creature that’s revealed. Murmurs spread amongst the crowd.

A black leather mask strapped in a head harness was pulled over his eyes highlighting the stark pale skin and a matching black collar encased his long pale neck, attached to a chain. A bright red ball gag was fitted between ruby lips, forcing his mouth to stay open, a sharp contrast to the black leather. The tightly fitted black silk shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned too many button’s too obscene creating a plunging neckline and the shirt collar flipped up like it was framing the leash and gag. His wrists were bound behind his back by expensive looking cuffs with decorative jewelry that looked more for show, though from the glint of the surrounding metal, there was no doubt that it did the job.

They descended the stairs, the vampire stumbles on the steps and Alpha Hale gave a sharp yank to prevent his pet from falling over.

Vampires and werewolves weren’t known to get along. Holding a vampire captive by a non-hunter at that was nearly unheard of. They recognize what it is, a display of power through an archaic custom sending a message to all the packs. A display of superiority. It’s working. They’re re-evaluating their opinion of the Hale pack now.

“I’m late,” Derek said, though his tone implied he didn’t care one bit. He sat down on the chaise set out for him, regal, like a King as the packs watched on. He widened his legs and gave the chain a sharp jerk. The creature obediently knelt; Derek grabs a fistful of his brown hair jerks his head back exposing the long pale throat forcing his cheek to rest on the Alpha’s thigh, a sign of submission.

Everyone’s eager to get a closer look at the vampire. They’re as strong as werewolves, but stronger if they’ve drank blood from another supernatural. The only thing stopping the bloodsuckers from wiping out the werewolf population is that Were blood causes addiction leading to insanity.

The other packs were curious when approaching. “How did you get your hands on such a rare pet?”

Derek ran a thumb over the luscious red lips surrounding the gag, “he’ll stay if he knows what’s good for him.” He slipped his thumb pass the gag and cut his thumb on a fang. The smell of blood instantly permeated the air, thick and heavy. Stiles whines, his tongue laps at the bleeding cut and chases it before Derek pulled out. “Get them to imprint on your blood and they’ll do anything for you to get their next fix.” Assuming the vampire didn’t outright drain and kill the wolf first, but the others didn’t know that.

The other wolves looked on with envy.

The meeting was dull as expected. The packs droned on and on about territory lines. Derek kept a possessive hand curled around Stiles neck, occasionally brushing a knuckle along the lines of his throat while listening, waiting.

No one was expecting the talks to end without a fight. They just didn’t know in what way, shape or form it’d come in. Everyone was on their guard when the opportunity arrived for the other packs to test their claim to their territory. So when the first of the challenges came, they were ready.

The excuse came after Stiles had fallen asleep kneeling on the plush carpet from the dry talks that weren’t going anywhere.

The reason to instigate a challenge is so trivial it’s no where near subtle that they want blood. It’s the pack that borders their territory making loud and absurd claims that the Hales are purposely driving monsters into their territory after they couldn’t handle the numbers as a way to weaken other packs and eventually take over when they were overwhelmed.

The upstart wolf doesn’t even realize they’re outright announcing their vulnerability and insinuating their pack was weak if they couldn’t keep out intruders. Nevertheless the reason for a fight is there and no one is going to back down. There’s something both sides need to prove.

“Pick your best wolf,” a neighbouring pack’s emissary announces.

“No need for a wolf,” Derek reached down to nudge Stiles awake and untied the ball gag. “Up,” he ordered.

Stiles stirred from his nap finding the gag gone flexing his jaw stretching stiff muscles. Derek leaned down to remove the restraints cuffing him and the hand slipped lower to press roughly on the plug between his cheeks making sure it was snug. The vampire whimpered and spread his thighs instinctively at the pressure of the plug making him so full.

Most importantly it exposes the dark red marks of the healed mating bite high up his inner left thigh where Derek sank fangs in because he’s a kinky possessive bastard and there’s no hiding that with the obscenely tight black booty shorts he’s wearing. It adds credibility that Stiles is just a pet.

The movement and the mark do not go unnoticed by the crowd and snickers and speculations began about what else the Hale Alpha used his pet for. No one takes the mark on the thigh seriously since mating bites traditionally go on the neck, taking it for a mark of ownership rather than a mark of commitment.

Derek leans in closer to whisper in his ear, not that it prevented the other wolves from picking it, “quiet, you’ll wear it and you’ll like it, or I’ll put something bigger in.” He yanked Stiles to his feet and pushed him in the direction of the ring, “if you finish the fight in under five minutes, you’ll get a reward.”

Stiles perked up at that. Still wearing the blindfold he stumbled toward to the center. When his foot made the first step into the ring, he didn’t trip. His demeanor changed completely. His back straightened to match the same regal posture that Derek had when walking in and strutted into the ring. His rabbiting heartbeat suddenly slowed to a quiet and steady _ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum_. His breathing went soft masking all his tells, taking on the mantle of a predator ready to hunt. He stood quietly facing his opponent even though he was still blindfolded. Stiles stilled like he was the one that was the predator stalking his prey.

The opponent from the Boulder pack, a hulking beta, their second in command towers over Stiles. Not that he could see through the mask, but he could hear the wolf’s heart beating above his head indicating the approximate height.

The beta tensed like he sensed an apex predator, an unnatural shiver ran down his spine, body responding subconsciously to instinctual fear. “You trying to insult our pack with this puny fighter?” The wolf postures, ignoring his instincts telling him this creature was dangerous. His clawed hand shot out to snatch the vampire.

Stiles feels the air currents moving as the heavy hand is swung his way, flitting out of reach. Stopping a short distance away and grinned back taunting.

The wolf roared and went into beta shift, charging with preternatural speed toward the vampire with a punch backed by his weight. Stiles was sent flying backwards and crashed into the wall leaving a sizeable dent. The wolf followed, wrenching him out of the concrete with a clawed hand crushing his throat.

Stiles dangled helplessly for a moment letting the wolf think he had the upper hand. Silly thing forgot that vampires didn’t need to breathe, and the neck wasn’t their most vulnerable area. It was the vampiric heart. The wolf forgot that this was also a predator and not some weak flailing prey. He would regret it now. Stiles reached up to crush the offending arm and the werewolf howled in pain and dropped him.

His recovery was quick though and his other arm shot out aiming to gouge this time. Stiles felt the air current of the blow and ducked, but not before the claw snagged the mask and tore it off. Wrong move. Now the predator had his eyes back. Stiles’ grin turned feral and he put out a burst of speed he had been hiding. Twisting, dodging and coming up behind the wolf to wrap a hand around his neck. The wolf caught a brief glimpse of pupils black as coal and the scent of bloodlust before his head was twisted to the side exposing his neck and sharp fangs plunged in. The paralytic effect was immediate. The wolf stood still, face frozen in a silent snarl trapped in his own body as the numbing agent circulated.

Stiles _drank._

The tension was palpable as the wolves watched and when one member of his pack tried to enter the ring to help, Stiles' eyes shot open. The grip on the neck tighten, the minuscule change in grip perceptible to the supernatural onlookers. The warning was clear; come closer and Stiles would rip their packmate’s head off.

They watched in silent trepidation, the tension growing thicker as they could hear the wolf’s heartbeat slow. The blood loss would be fatal soon.

Derek watched calmly laid back in his seat, waiting until the last moment before calling out softly but voice full of command, "Stiles.”

Said vampire's head perked up and looked toward the voice.

"Come here," Derek's legs fell open and patted his thigh.

Stiles wrenched his fangs out of the bleeding neck and released his opponent who was still under the paralysis effect collapsing onto the ground.

Stiles walked purposefully toward Derek. When he reached him, stepped between his legs and without hesitation sank to his knees. He lowered his head and rested his cheek on the thigh where Derek's hand had been.

"Good boy," Derek crooned. Red eyes flared at the audience as he stroked Stiles’ cheek. No one dared to move.

The message was clear to all the packs. Derek stopped this vampire during a feeding frenzy. For whatever reason, this vampire who could easily take down a werewolf twice his size obeyed the Hale Alpha only. The alpha that had to be stronger in order to be in complete control of this powerful being. The pack that had access to means they did not.

The Hale Pack was _strong_.


End file.
